Cocos Club I have a friend who likes to say that life today in China's expat community is like living through the Gold Rush. This is a land of the unexpected -- sudden wealth side-by-side with gaudy failure. But whatever happens, a wild time is guaranteed for all. For Gail and me, the unexpected began even before we set foot on Chinese soil. Gail, who flew to China a month before I did in order to commence her university job, happened to sit next to the Webmaster of this site on the last leg of her journey from Osaka to Beijing. They began chatting, and our involvement with Chinese Business World is the result -- Gail as an all-purpose editor, and me with my weekly column. Frankly working on the Internet was the last thing we thought we'd be doing in China when we left the United States, but that's the way things work here. Possibilities come from the blue. The strangest offer of gainful employment I've personally had in China came as a result of my love for music. Those of you who have been following this column over the past few months know that I am a secret piano player. I earned a brief (and uncertain) living at the piano in my distant youth, and from time to time I have played just for fun. Two years ago I spent a winter in Krakow, Poland holding forth at a baby grand piano six nights a week in a chic little cafe right on the main square. It is my humble opinion that jazz and blues are America's great cultural gift to the world, and when I came to Beijing I thought of myself as a kind of boogie-woogie ambassador. I only needed to find the right place to play. So soon after I arrived, I dressed up and made the rounds of the fancy hotels and restaurants in Beijing where I had seen pianos in evidence. I'm sure it was very un-Chinese of me to simply show up and introduce myself in such a bold fashion, but we Americans are infamous for being forthright. I stopped by the Beijing Hotel, the Beijing International, the Grand, and many more. And got for my troubles a very polite no, sorry, not really interested. I was walking down Wangfujing Avenue and decided to stop inside a 5-Star hotel I had never noticed before. It had an odd name -- the Overseas Chinese Prime Hotel -- but there was a luscious lobby, a truly elegant atrium, and a very grand piano. I gave my well-practiced speech to a junior assistant-manager who smiled and asked me to wait. A few minutes later the General Manager of the entire hotel, a Mr. Candido Peruggini, appeared from the elevator and greeted me like an old friend. Mr. Peruggini was Italian and said he was dying for some good Western music in his hotel. We talked a few minutes and then his Executive Assistant joined us, a large Frenchman, Mr. Jouca Messarra. Mr. Peruggini suggested we go into Coco's Club just off the lobby and do some playing. The club was empty at the time and there was an electric piano and a drum set. Why not have a little fun? Was I dreaming this? Apparently not. For the next hour we jammed -- me on the electric piano and the two very dignified top executives of this elegant hotel taking turns on the drums. It was a lovely afternoon and they said I should certainly come and play in their lobby. All I needed to do was get the necessary work permits and permissions. Unfortunately, these necessary permits proved more difficult than any of us anticipated, and several months went by in limbo. As a foreign "artist", I discovered I would need the permission of two separate Ministries of Culture to perform in China. For this I needed to submit a set list and a cassette tape, and then wait to hear from them. I began to fear that my rendition of "My Favorite Things" had alarmed them. Or perhaps it was "Satin Doll." I pictured a somber gathering of Chinese officials sitting at a long table, frowning as they listened to such cultural specimens of the decadent West. I waited so long that I pretty much forgot about the Overseas Chinese Prime Hotel and I became involved in other projects. Then unexpectedly, on the morning of Christmas Eve, I got a frantic call from Mr. Messarra: the hotel had brought in a Cuban band at great expense to perform at their Coco's Club. (Cuban bands, apparently don't need the same cultural scrutiny.) But unfortunately the keyboard player had just suffered a heart attack! Would I come in immediately for a rush rehearsal and fill in? Frankly I wasn't thrilled. It was Christmas Eve, after all, and I had other plans. But Mr. Messarra was eloquent in his need and I agreed to give it a try. It was the oddest Christmas Eve of my life. The Cuban band turned out to be three sizzling young women in tight red dresses who just about had pineapples on their heads. They sang and played various percussion instruments -- congas and a trap set. There was also an exhausted, elderly sax player, a man. The poor keyboard player who had suffered the heart attack had played synthesizer bass as well as electric piano and obviously held the band together musically. Our rehearsal was a disaster from the start. The band didn't speak English and my Spanish is limited to ordering margaritas and salsa. I didn't know any of their tunes except "La Bamba," which we played again and again. It seemed pretty hopeless, so I did a terrible thing: I jumped ship. I told them this just wasn't going to work. But I was able to direct them to another piano player, a friend of mine from the Philippines, Jose Viola, who had quite a following at the Amazon Bar across town. Jose was an old pro and he knew Cuban music a lot better than I did.
Next week: "Personal and Personnel" - Guest Column by Gail Westbrook From the Editor in Chief: If you have some travel or work experience in China to share with us, we will be very excited to hear from you! Send your feedback by e-mail or regular mail to ASM Overseas Corporation. Thank you! And if you liked this column, please check Expats In China (International Community in China) for more interesting and useful information on life in China as a foreigner, including calendar of events, entertainment, housing, employment, classifieds, personal, etc. |
